


Baby It's Cold Inside

by bamfsback (anomalagous)



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: F/M, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 11:53:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anomalagous/pseuds/bamfsback
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not my fault, I swear. This is instead the fault of the lovely Turianmailman on Tumblr, who drew a great little piece that I decided needed some story behind it.</p><p>Kurt. Kitty. A snowstorm and the start of something beautiful. </p><p>Standard disclaimer about safe sex applies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby It's Cold Inside

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Untitled](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/33663) by Turianmailman. 



It was _cold_.

Bone-bitingly, teeth-rattlingly _cold_.

The blizzard had rolled in over the better part of New York state like it was pulled by the chariot-horses of Boreas himself, and then it _sat_ , fat and redolent, loading the countryside down with pile upon pile and drift upon drift of wet, heavy snow. It took the power out late on day one, and then overwhelmed the mansion's backup generators on day two. Now into the long evening hours of day four, the residents of the school huddled around the various fireplaces, huddled beneath blankets, just huddled _together_ in hopes of staying warm long enough for the power to come back on.

Almost all of the residents, anyway.

Tensions were running high with so many people essentially trapped in such a small space with each other, and at some point while the sun had still been shining, somewhere high above the clouds that drove snow downwards onto them all, Kitty had gotten into a spat with someone in the main hall. Kurt wasn't even sure with _whom_ , or about _what_ , all he really knew was that she had left in a huff, shuffling her way back to her room half in tears and covered in a pile of blankets. She hadn't come back out since, not even for the meal heated over the camp stoves and Sterno canisters, and Kurt had grown worried. After all, with the temperature at a worrisome low even _inside_ the mansion, it was important that everyone do what they needed to, to stay warm. Kitty was unarguably his best friend, he wasn't about to let herself do herself harm, even out of deference to her temper or bruised feelings.

Balancing the thermoses of soup and hot tea in one hand, Nightcrawler knocked on Kitty's door once, twice, paused at least long enough to convince himself he might have heard her say _come in_ in the back of his imagination, and then teleported past the locked door to reappear just inside the room, a few inches off of the floor to prevent intersecting with anything.

He needn't have worried, not really, because Kitty had taken every scrap of cloth in her room and piled it onto the bed. He could just see the motion and then the reflective flash of her eyes as she made a little hole in her makeshift fortress to peer out at him. She didn't seem to entirely know what she wanted to say at first, finally settling on, "...hey, Kurt."

Already feeling the chill in the room, his fur prickled up against the layers of clothing his was wearing as he stepped forward, brandishing the thermoses. "I brought you some food and tea. It is important to stay warm, _nicht wahr?_ I thought perhaps I would help."

Kitty's dark eyes flicked from Kurt's face to the items in his hand, and then she made a soft sound that was acceptance, at least, if not appreciating. "Thanks. Come here, you'd better bundle up before you get too cold. With all the blankets and those clothes Jubilee sent me back in Excalibur, it's almost cozy."

Kurt chuckled, lifting his tail as he approached the yurt-shaped pile of clothes so that he could use it to help burrow in. It didn't take very long, between Kitty's phasing ability and Kitty's loud protestations that he was _so cold_ ; eventually she had him cocooned into the hideaway she'd made for herself. Kurt peeled off the first layer of clothing he was wearing--hastily modified snow pants and a faux-fur-lined parka--to add it instead to the structure of the clothing surrounding them, so that a little of his body heat could bleed into the air surrounding himself and Kitty and warm it.

"Of course, now I can't _see_." Kitty complained the moment they were settled in, and Kurt give a faint frown. He realized, not for the first time, as he watched her eyes blink blindly and her hands rise and fall in careful patterns trying to map the spatial relativity of the space around them, that he _saw_ much better, in the dark, than most of his friends did. Kurt wasn't sure why, or that he would _ever_ be sure; Hank still wasn't clear on how he saw at _all_ , with his pupils as hard to locate as they were and possessing of no apparent iris with which to focus his sight.

He chuckled, quietly, turning his attentions to the thermoses. "Here, I can help. You would like some soup first, perhaps? It is beef and barley vegetable." The question was mostly rhetorical; Kurt was already in the process of uncapping the thermos, pouring a quantity of the food into the cup that popped up off of the top. The smell of rich, warm broth filled the small space. Once the soup was served, such as it was, Kurt resealed the thermos and then reached out delicately to take one of Kitty's hands, guiding it until she could wrap her fingers around the cup securely.

She laughed, quietly. "Thanks." Silence reigned for a few moments while Kitty drank the soup. They repeated this ritual a few times, first with the soup and then with the tea, and at the end, Shadowcat, still curled in against herself, trembling under her skin. A frown marred the features of her face that Kurt could just barely see. It was some time before she spoke, like admitting something she didn't want to admit, "I'm still _cold_ , Kurt. It's like no matter what I do, ever since I came back from space, the cold is _inside_ me and I can't warm it up. Except now the outside is cold too."

His own frown appearing to echo hers, Kurt reached out carefully with the spade of his tail, touching it to the first patch of exposed skin on Kitty's body that he could find. He'd meant it mostly as a gesture of comfort, but the second he made contact he was struck with how _actually physically cold_ she was to the touch, as if being in the pocket of warmth had done nothing to warm her _body_. Unable to help himself, Kurt gave a little gasp of shock. " _Du Lieber, Katzchen_ , you are like ice, even under all these blankets!" Unable to flick his tail with the sudden anxiety that speared through him, Kurt instead started to work his way out of nearly _all_ of the clothing he'd been wearing.

Kitty's eyes narrowed, although they still moved in the blank, unfocused way of someone who couldn't see well. "Kurt? ...Kurt, what are you doing, are you..."

"Hush." He scolded a second or five later, down to his boxer-briefs and already trying to wrap the parka he'd once been wearing around Kitty's shoulders and use it to pull her closer. "It is the basics of treating hypothermia, _nicht wahr?_ To share body warmth. I have plenty, you have not nearly enough. I am not about to let you _freeze to death_ over some silly notion of prudence, not after we have known each other for so long and seen each other in much worse situations."

She only protested for the space of a few more breaths, before apparently coming to the conclusion that he was at least right enough not to take a stand on being so _cold_ over. Instead, she too stripped down to her underwear, a little shyly as if conscious of the fact that she knew he could still see _her_ , even if she couldn't see _him_ , between the darkness and the mutation that made him _invisible_ when it _was_ dark. She found him by touch instead, allowing him to wrap both of their bodies close with the layers of blankets and coats, pressing her skin against the short pile of his fur.

Time distorted, crystallized around them and twisted out of measure or recognition. Kurt wasn't sure how long they had laid there before he felt Kitty's body start to warm, whether or not he drifted between sleep and wakefulness before something stirred in his chest, and he found himself almost _unexpectedly_ thinking thoughts that had certainly never moved through his conscious mind so brazenly before. Thoughts about how _nice_ Kitty's hair smelled, close to his face and sticking to his fur like velcro, thoughts about the perfect graceful curve of her body, breast-waist-hip, as he could barely see it outlined in the twilight beneath the blankets. Thoughts about how much he wanted to kiss her, suddenly, how desperately he needed to stay in this moment where he could keep her body pressed against his and not have to explain to anyone _why_.

He was so lost in those thoughts it took Kurt longer than it really should have to realize that Kitty had begun to run her fingertips through his fur, starting at his collarbone and tracing along his chest and abdomen towards the waistline of his underwear, a gentle but questing touch that was as explorative as it was apparently meant to be soothing. Every pass she took a little bit longer, hands dallying in his pelt, and Kurt could feel his heart rate--and _other things_ \--start to rise. One fang bit at his bottom lip, trying to focus on the brief pinprick of pain to allow him to calm the automatic responses of his traitorous body. "...Ah... _Katzchen?_ "

Her only response was to turn, almost as if in a dream, to put that same hand on the side of his face. It turned out to be only a guide, as a moment later she was leaning upwards, pressing her mouth against Kurt's with an eagerness that nearly bordered on desperation. She still tasted faintly of darjeeling.

She was _kissing him_. Kitty Pryde was _kissing him_ , not chastely, not platonically, but as lovers did.

And _dear God_ , did he _want her to_.

Of course, she pulled away abruptly, breathless, trying to stammer through an apology. He wouldn't let her even get through it, suddenly unwilling to let the moment pass by. Instead he kissed at her mouth, her cheeks, the edges of her lips, anything to convince her that he didn't _mind_ , more than didn't mind, that he wanted, _needed_ her attention, a flower struggling to grow without the sun. Moments passed where he thought it was not going to work, and she was going to pull away anyway.

But she didn't. Instead, she let herself be plied by his wordless attempts, moving both hands to bury them first in the thick curls of his hair and then slowly, almost _painfully_ slowly, moving their way downwards along his body. She was exploring, he realized, without benefit of her eyes, examining the parts of his body she had either looked at but never touched or, by merit of clothing or propriety or both, never really even _seen_. He let her, he reveled in it, his breath and voice catching in his throat as Kitty's fingers found the outside edge of one of his ears and discovered in the same motion just how _sensitive_ those delicate points could be. She rolled it between her fingers and he shuddered, unable to keep from pressing himself against her briefly. Kitty didn't laugh but he could feel the echo of it in her body, as his hands clasped against her ribcage and her stomach pressed against his own.

She traced the lines of his shoulders and his back, swept her touch over the tops of his arms and the plain of his chest to find the bare skin patches of his nipples and she tweaked and tugged at them just until Kurt found himself groaning, so quietly against Kitty's mouth, as the skin there puckered stiffly into her touch. She mapped the muscles of his stomach and sides with a diligent attention to topographical detail, and then her fingers strayed lower still, hovering along the waistband of Kurt's underwear before slipping beneath it. He was fully aroused by the time her fingers found him, and there was a subtle change in the air between them as she weighed it against her palm and came to understand the actual length and girth of him. "... _oh_ , Kurt, _jeez_..."

What could he say to something like that? _Oh jeez_ , with her fingers wrapped about the most sensitive core of him. _Oh jeez_ , while the very touch of her skin was creating sparks in the back of his eyes, across his vision. _Oh jeez._ His tail coiled around to begin to work the clasp on Kitty's bra, his voice hushed. "What can I say? The Lord has been very kind to me in many ways."

He wasn't sure if the sound she made was a laugh or some kind of more primal gasp. Her bra sprang open and slouched forward to hang off of her forearms. Although Kitty moved one to draw it free from the clothing, the other she simply phased, never breaking her contact with his ever-intensifying _need_. Instead, she worked her fingers just a little lower, tickling at the base of him until his voice came from him in short, high-pitched pants. Kurt was barely aware of her speaking to him, even with _her_ voice so close to his ear. "I want you to warm me up, Kurt. Remind me I'm not alone. Be with me."

Suddenly their little bastion against the cold felt _too_ warm, almost blazingly hot, the skin of her fingers and the gentle scrape of her nails against the delicate skin of his private places points of beautiful liquid fire. Kurt lurched forward towards her, bringing himself up on his knees and shins, heedless of how the layers of cloth and blankets collapsed around them. Kitty drew her hand away from him to start to push his boxers down his legs and Kurt felt suddenly a great _wanting_ , nearly an emptiness from the absence of her touch, and he couldn't say whether it was simply because it had been so _long_ or because it was _Kitty_ who was no longer cradling him with her deft fingers. " _Katzchen, meine Katzchen_ , you are never alone."

His tail curled around her waist, coiling higher until he could caress her breasts easily with its spade. Her skin was so _soft_ , so responsive to his touch; she shivered against him every time he drew his fur across her nipples or clavicle against the grain. He slid his fingers down lower, working Kitty free of her own underwear so that he could instead explore the place between her legs. She was wetter already than he expected, more ready than he could have anticipated, so he slipped a broad finger inside, rubbing the roughness of his thumbprint against the nub of her pleasure. She made a wanton sound, pressing against his hand to rest the coarse hair there against his palm. Her hands trailed back up his body, one tightening against his own arousal and the other curling into the fur at the back of his neck. " _Be with me_." She repeated, whispering the words into his ear now, pulling at him as if to encourage him into an idea he had already agreed with.

Kurt slid his hand free of her and instead moved to help brace her around her hips. Kitty wrapped her legs around his waist as he lifted her, gripping at him with strong dancer's muscles, and together they worked to lower her down around him. It was slow, a gradual fulfillment of some unspoken promise Kurt hadn't even realized had hung between them; every so often Kitty would pause, leaning against his chest and the hands he used to help support her weight, and he would feel her adjust, learning to accommodate the unique way her body fit with his. When she had finally drawn him fully into her, she laughed, incredulously, the hand she had used to help guide him dallying over the point of their union. She lifted her face to look at Kurt's, eyes full of emotion, and he leaned forward to kiss her, completing the circuit. Something electric and white-hot raced from his mouth to his groin and back again, shooting through his heart every time. "I'm here."

He allowed Kitty to set the pace, supporting her with his arms as she moved against him, rolling his hips forward every time she slid her weight downwards. It was slow, sweet and beautiful, and Kurt realized it had been far, _far_ too long since he'd been able do enjoy anything he might have called _making love_ rather than rough-edged, common _sex_. The warmth built between them slowly, nothing rushed, and as it did Kurt realized what a strangely intimate moment this was for him to realize how much he _loved_ the woman surrounding him, how much he'd _always_ loved her, really, and that this, _this moment_ , this moment he would cage forever in his heart, was so _perfect_.

There had never been anything _more_ perfect.

He told her so, in hushed Bavarian, whispering against her skin and into her hair when she turned to press her face into the curve of his neck where it met his shoulder. He told her how _right_ it felt to have her wrapped around him, how much he felt as if she _completed_ some part of him he didn't even know was unfinished just by the grip of her fingers in his shoulderblades, the dig of her heels in along his spine, how he would _never_ let her feel alone again so long as she would have him. He told her _everything_.

It was less like lightning striking and more like a sunrise; a warmth that had built so gradually, so inexorably, as inevitable as the turning of the earth and as incomprehensible in magnitude as the sun itself. Kurt pulled back just enough to watch Kitty's face as the wave overtook her, holding onto the memory like a lifeline as it washed over him next and painted everything in his mind in white-gold light.

When it was over, he tried to lay Kitty down against the mattress on her back, arms trembling from exertion, and she pulled him with her, guiding him with her legs and hands until he was draped over her, bodies still conjoined, his fur insulating her from the cold still trying to intrude upon their sanctuary. She kissed his temples, the tips of his ears, the angular surfaces of his face, and said only one thing over and over, "Thank you."

They fell asleep like that, tangled together and nested in the blankets, two hearts suddenly stitched together with the silk threads of time, familiarity, and nascent love. 


End file.
